


Façade

by santa_fe_maniac



Category: bare: A Pop Opera - Hartmere/Intrabartolo
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 17:01:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30024960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/santa_fe_maniac/pseuds/santa_fe_maniac
Summary: "He hasn’t cried. Not through Jason collapsing, not through him getting dragged onto a stretcher and shoved into an ambulance, not through Ivy sobbing into his shoulder."Peter takes care of everyone else before himself. Lucas returns the favor.
Relationships: Lucas Carter & Peter Simmonds, minor Lucas Carter/Tanya Garrett, past Jason McConnell/Peter Simmonds - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Façade

Floor three of St. Cecilia’s boys' dorm is usually bursting with rebellion and chaos. Every time Peter walks the halls late at night, he hears music through the walls, along with loud, slurred talking. Sometimes, he’s a part of the noise.

Tonight, it’s quiet and still. The air is stiff, lodging itself into his chest and drying his throat. There’s no music, or talking, or people sneaking across the halls. 

Any other night, it would have been welcomed. Peter enjoys the quiet just as much as he enjoys the blasting music and getting wasted with his friend group. Any other night, he would’ve wondered why it’s so quiet.

But tonight, he knows why. Everyone knows about Jason. Everyone heard the deafening sirens wailing, saw the stretcher getting lifted into the ambulance, scrambling to get a look at him. All Peter really remembers is Jason collapsing onto the ground before him, not breathing, and Ivy sobbing into her hands beside him as Nadia climbs into the ambulance with him. 

He didn’t cry, though, not like Ivy. He’s weirdly numb, like his heart has been ripped out and not replaced. Dread boils deep in his stomach and he’s not even thinking about where he’s walking. He’s on autopilot. 

He twists the doorknob of his room and pushes the door open. He’s thankful he’s rooming with Lucas for the time being, since he’s not sure he can face his and Jason’s room, so starkly bare without Jason. 

Lucas sits on his bed, elbows on his knees, fidgeting with his fingers. “Hey,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, almost lost with Peter closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” he replies, swallowing thickly. He slides off his shoes and leaves them by the door, shuffling across the room and sitting cautiously on his bed. 

“How’re you doing?” Lucas asks hesitantly.

Peter closes his eyes. How _is_ he doing? He just watched his ex-boyfriend—or boyfriend? He doesn’t really know their status—get outed to the entire school, get a girl pregnant, and then collapse mid-way through a performance. 

“I don’t know,” he whispers. 

Lucas nods and lies down on his bed, staring at the popcorn ceiling. He runs his hands over his face and digs his fingers into his eyes. “God, it’s so shitty.”

“Hm?”

“I… I gave him the GHB,” he says, voice shaking. “This whole fuckin’ situation is my fault.”

“It’s not,” Peter says, frowning. “It’s on him for taking all of that. He knew better than to take that much. You may be a drug dealer, but you’re nothing if not careful.” 

Lucas laughs bitterly, turning his head to look at Peter. His face softens. “C’mon, have you taken care of everyone? How’re you doing, really? He was your boyfriend.”

Peter sighs and shrugs. “I don’t know what else to do. Before he…” he trails off, sighing again and dragging his hands through his hair. “Before he, y’know, he told me he loved me. He told me that he told Father about us.” He swallows thickly and stares at his hands. “I told him it was over. That must be when he…” he trails off, shaking his head, unable to face the words, eyes stinging with tears. 

“Peter-”

“He pulled me aside again just before the show started, and we, y’know, confessed our feelings or whatever, but it didn’t matter at that point. He’d already taken the whole bottle. If I had just-”

“Don’t go down that road,” Lucas warns. “That’ll only get you into more shit. He made a few shitty mistakes, made up his mind, and there’s nothing that we can do about it. We can’t take it back. We just gotta make it through.”

Peter’s bottom lip trembles as he gives him a weak smile. “I never knew you were good at comforting people.”

Lucas chuckles. “Grew up with a little sister. You know little kids, they think everything is the end of the world.” 

Peter curls his legs to his chest and runs over Lucas’s words. How he wished things had gone differently. If he and Jason never had that first kiss, if he had just let them stay in the closet, if he had run away with him. He would’ve gladly ran away with Jason if he knew this is where they’d end up. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be happening if he had gotten over his own hurt and helped him while Jason’s life spiraled out of control and his carefully built façade was smashed to pieces. 

He hasn’t cried. Not through Jason collapsing, not through him getting dragged onto a stretcher and shoved into an ambulance, not through Ivy sobbing into his shoulder. 

Now, when it’s just him and Lucas, he finally lets go, unable to swallow back the emotion anymore. He curls in on himself, buries his face into his knees, and trembles with sobs. 

It’s not dramatic, loud sobbing, instead soft, wailing cries that he can’t hold back anymore. 

The bed sinks beside him under a new weight, and arms wrap around him. He leans into him.

Lucas remains silent, simply holding him, and Peter makes a mental note to thank him. Really, it’s what he needs, considering he’s having trouble stirring up words to make this situation okay. No words can make this okay, really. 

He cries until exhaustion pulls at his muscles and the tears slow. He sniffles, pulls his sleeve over his hand, and wipes the tears. Lucas slowly stands, and Peter lifts his head, smiling weakly. “Thanks.”

“‘Course, dude,” Lucas replies, slapping him on the shoulder. “I know we don’t really talk about stuff, but you’re cool, and this’s hard for all of us, but especially for you. We’re cool.”

“Thanks,” he repeats, wiping the last of the tears. Lucas just shoots him a smile before settling down in his bed.

Peter slips under his covers, not bothering to change out of his clothes. He’s not sure he can get to sleep, anyway, not without Jason pressed against him and with the knowledge that he may never sleep beside him again.

He closes his eyes. Minutes pass, and the door slowly opens. There’s hushed whispers that Peter can barely make out. 

“Tanya?” Lucas asks. 

"Just wanted to make sure you're okay."

“I’m fine. Keep your voice down. Peter’s sleeping.” 

“Fine? Lucas, please.” 

Peter’s no stranger to Tanya sneaking into their dorm at night—usually for certain activities that cause Peter to flee for the night—but it’s clear it’s not one of those nights, as they fall silent after a few minutes. 

He eventually drifts off, but is met with the sickening thud of Jason hitting the stage, his limp body splayed across the floor, completely still, not even moving for a breath.


End file.
